The One With The Doctor
by trenzaloki
Summary: The gang is hanging out in Monica's apartment when a strange blue box appears in the middle of the room.


"I'm telling you guys, I can think of three types of celery!" Phoebe insisted as the rest of the group simply stared at her. 

"Uh, Pheebs, I _really_ think you're stuck," Ross commented from his spot on the floor where he was trying to figure out what states he forgot in Chandler's game.

"Hey, you don't make fun of Phoebe. You only got 46 states. You missed ten!" Joey pointed accusingly at Ross before turning back to the group and shrugging.

Ignoring Joey's highly uneducated comment, he said, "Hey, I don't think that 'not regular celery' counts, Pheebs."

"You guys don't believe that I can do this, but did I not think of 3 types of carrots?" Phoebe said.

"Oh yes, what were those again... Right. Regular carrots, mini carrots, and colorful carrots. And you know, as a chef I can absolutely support that," Monica said.

"Hey, Pheebs, have you thought of maybe giving up? Maybe there is only one type of celery," Rachel suggested.

"No! No! If I give up, then the federation is going to come for me and take me away, and you know, that's just a hassle." Phoebe got up off the chair and walked into the kitchen to look in the fridge.

"Hey, Pheebs, while you're over there, can you grab me a beer?" Joey called.

"Yeah. Hey Mon, what's this yellow stuff in the fridge?"

"Oh no, Phoebe, don't drink that! That's fat!" Monica yelled as she ran over to the fridge. "It's for the turkey."

"Oh oh OH, I just held melted flesh," Phoebe spazzed out.

Joey yelled, "Yeah okay but for God's sake, somebody get me a beer!"

"Why don't you just get your own beer, Joe?" Chandler asked.

"Because that defeats the purpose of drinking the beer. You drink the beer to relax, and getting up to get a beer is not relaxing," Joey explained

"Ahh, right..." Chandler pretended to understand Joey, as they knew it was easier to play along with his stories and ideas than to fight them.

"Hey look, Ugly Naked Guy is setting up for Thanksgiving dinner!" Rachel called from the window.

All six of the piled around the window. "Ew!" They all flinched a bit. Synchronously they all yelled, covered their eyes, and walked away from the window. Monica headed to the kitched to fix some more side dishes for dinner. Joey, Chandler, and Rachel sat back down on the couch, Ross continued to look for more states, and Phoebe still needed two more types of celery.

"Oh! I got it! Regular celery!" Phoebe exclaimed.

"Pheebs I think you already got that one," Rachel admitted, though she was busy leafing through some new fashion catalogues.

"Hey Mon, when's dinner? We're all hungry," Chandler complained.

"You guys wanted three different types of potatoes, you guys need to wait for the three different types of potatoes to cook," Monica argued.

Everyone collectively sighed and went back to what they were doing. During that moment of silence, a strange whoosh-ing sound became audible, getting louder and louder until it was almost deafening. Finally it stopped, and by that time a large, bright blue 1960's police telephone box had materialized right behind their couch.

"THE FEDERATION" Phoebe yelled as she ran into her room.

"What?!" Ross squeaked. "That's impossible!"

"Everybody get away from it! Who knows where it came from! We have to clean it before we can do anything!" Monica scrambled for her emergency cleaning supplies that she stored all over the apartment.

"Hey, I just wanna touch it!" Joey restrained himself because the last time he did something that Monica told him not to he wasn't allowed to eat food from their fridge for a week.

"What?!" Ros continued to squeal, "That's impossible, that's absolutely impossible, you can't just materialize a police box in an apartment!"

"I think it's kinda nice. If we moved it to the corner it would be a unique piece of furniture," Rachel was already mapping out a new floor plan to accompany the object.

Scrubbing down the box with soap, Monica felt that the machine was warm. Definitely warmer than it should have been, whatever it was.

Suddenly the door of the mysterious machine burst open, letting a tall, skinny, brown haired man and a shorter blonde girl out of it.

"Well hello there," the man said, "I'm the Doctor."


End file.
